First Time for Everything
by martianfairy
Summary: In which Wanda realizes Viz can be distracted way before he does. ScarletVision oneshot with healthy doses of humor, angst, friendship, and romance.


_Hey guys! So. . . this is my first foray into Avengers Fics (though I did a quick AOS piece), and I would love your feedback! This plot bunny has been in my head ever since I saw the Civil War movie, so I decided just to jot it down. I did my best with the research (and I haven't edited yet), but if you notice something off let me know (kindly please)! For that matter, if you love it, let me know via likes, comments, etc.!_

 _This is also up on my tumblr account, sarahscaffeinatedrants!_

 _Set during Wanda's 'detainment' at the Avengers Compound in Civil War._

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"Are you sure that's the move you want to go with?" Vision asks in his usual tone, modulated to be impossibly polite.

His eyes flick to Wanda, and from this distance she can see every seam in the artificial lens. Everything that gives away, without a doubt, the fact he isn't entirely human. Any idiot with cash to burn can wear a metal suit and a mask, just ask Tony Stark. . . but the eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul.

 _If that's what he has._

And he must, because she's looked into it.

"Yes," she swallows, breaking the eye contact that's become uncomfortably long, "Yes I'm sure. . . And I wish you would stop asking me that. It's not any fun if you tell me every time I make a wrong move." For good measure, she tacks a nervous laugh on at the end.

Even with Vision's 'help' Wanda is still losing miserably. Looking at the chess board, his black pieces outnumber her white ones by epic proportions. Her only real accomplishments have been keeping her queen and avoiding check the whole game. Other than that. . . it's been a massacre.

"Oh," he frowns slightly, "Well I just thought, since I know all the right ones, it might be more fair if. . ."

"That's not how it works, Viz," she cracks a grin, trying to ease the tension that always seems to build when he's around.

 _When you're playing a computer, you don't expect to win,_ she almost adds. Almost. Because if there's anything Vision's afraid of, it's himself. Or that _himself_ might not really exist. That he's just another one of Stark's androids.

"Right. Of course," he yields, throwing his hands up with more conviction than the situation requires.

Wanda nods slowly, watching him carefully. Soon she averts her attention, chipping away at her dark nail polish (maroon today but she's thinking maybe black tomorrow) for a distraction to pass the time.

 _Be casual._

Finally, having grown uncomfortable with the silence, she looks up and says, "It's still your turn, right?"

He blinks and seems taken aback, which is strange because, to Wanda's knowledge, he can't forget anything. Literally.

"So it is. One moment and—there." He slides a bishop diagonally with one finger, making the perfect move without a second thought.

"Aand we're back to me again," Wanda sighs under her breath, embarrassed by the difference between her long deliberations and Vision's effortless plays.

It's not like she's bad at chess. She learned from Pietro when she was ten and practiced against him until she could hold her own with just about any amateur. . .but Viz is on a whole different level. She wonders if he memorized every chess manual by heart or if the strategies come from his own mind. Or mind stone. Whatever.

"Would you like a refreshment while you. . . work?" he glides towards the kitchen while she glares at the board, completely lost. Apparently it shows.

"Yeah, thanks. I have a can of Chai if you check the cabinet on the top right. There should be plenty of time for the water to boil," she rolls her eyes to herself.

"Already on it," he announces, rattling the loose leaf tea around its tin.

While Wanda continues to study her army's dire situation, she listens to Vision roam around the kitchen. Cups clink, water pours, kettle bubbles, and it all blends together into the kind of background noise that takes her back to when she was just a normal kid with normal problems. Waiting for mom to finish dinner.

Except a moment later she's in the Avenger's compound being held (captive?) by a not-android who was co-created by two of the beings she has hated most in the world, and is under orders from one of those beings to keep her in check. Not to mention that she has these stupid, horrible, powers that were supposed to _fix everything_ , but now it seems like all she's capable of is—

Well.

She picks one of her pawns up the old-fashioned way, with her hands, and turns it over against the bare skin of her palm. It's smooth and cool and feels nothing like the rough wooden set she learned on.

 _Thing's change. What else is new?_

Finally, she returns the piece to it's square and makes a focused effort to stay on task and figure out the next move. There's not much of a point, though. It's not like she has a shot of winning the game, and she suspects that Vision might already have passed up a few opportunities to take her down.

Her only hope is cheating. It's not something she makes a habit of doing, but she's frustrated enough to try, if only to see the look on Vision's face when she defeats his 'perfect form'. Still, he would notice any changes in position when he got back, if not before then.

Unless. . .

She stands up and makes a show of stretching, hands in the air, back arched like a cat.

This probably won't work, almost definitely, but it's her only chance at winning. Besides. . . She's curious.

She makes her way to the kitchen and Vision, skirt swaying against her hips. She tries, for a moment, to take on that innocuous look Romonav uses on Tony all the time—the one that screams 'helpless' in capital letters—but it feels wrong. Besides, Vision is no Tony Stark, something he can be proud of.

"Hey," she says once she's right behind him, and places a hand on his shoulder.

He jumps at the contact, which makes her jump too because he should've known she was there, maybe even before she did.

"Oh. Hello, Wanda," he regains his composure quickly.

She scrambles to construct an excuse for not working on her next great chess mistake, "I was just. . . tired of sitting in one spot for so long. Needed to move around for a minute. It helps me think."

"Yes, I'd imagine so. . ." he trails off when he realizes that she hasn't backed up to the socially acceptable distance for casual conversation, and her face is hovering just a few inches below his, "Ahh, your tea should be just about ready."

"Good. I hope you didn't use an infuser. I was thinking I might read the leaves—" she has to look up through her lashes just to see his face.

He swallows visibly, "Well, I haven't poured the water y—"

Before he can say anything further, the kettle screeches and he shifts to take it off the eye, putting a few feet of space between himself and Wanda in the process. She curses her bad luck, but walks to her cup to to dump the tea out of her favorite elephant-shaped infuser and hope for another opportunity.

Soon, she moves out of the way for Vision to pour the boiling water, and watches as the steam rises, swirling in patterns that remind her of her own energy manipulation.

"Do you believe in this kind of thing? Fortune telling?" she asks, taking a slow step back in Vision's direction.

"Scientifically, it has no founding. But stranger things have happened, obviously."

"Obviously. . . I think I sort of _have_ to believe it. Given my—skill set, and everything. With all this cosmic energy flowing through the universe, it has to manifest itself somewhere, and I can't be the only place that happens."

With every word, she's edged closer and now she's so close that she can hear his synthetic heart beat against his chest. She's surprised to find her skin tingling with every beat, her own heart growing unsteady.

"I think you underestimate what you've been given."

Wanda looks away, bitterness easing it's way into her face, "Given. You're right. Ha, this is one gift I wish I had never accepted."

"There can be no turning back from that, but you've made every effort to move forward. To do good."

"It isn't always enough," her gaze becomes glassy as her thoughts drift to her brother and then to all the families she herself tore apart with one mistake.

 _No better than Tony Stark or anyone else._

Tears begin to trace down her cheeks, but she wipes them away with the back of her hand. She twists a ring around one finger, trying desperately to calm herself. To keep control.

Without warning, she finds Vision wrapped around her, soft and warm and, for all the world, like a human. When the surprise wears off, she collapses into the hug, holding back a sob.

Once she deems herself fit to stand on her own, Wanda straightens up and lets go of Vision. He steadies her with two hands on her shoulders and states, synthetic eyes boring into hers, "Sometimes it is enough."

They don't move for what feels like a very long time. It takes that long for Wanda to find a smile somewhere in herself and put it on.

When she does, Vision finally removes his arms. "If you don't mind me asking, how was that? First time hugging and everything. . ."

She laughs, wiping a stray tear from an eye, "It was perfect, Viz."

"Oh, good," he lets out a sigh of relief.

"Mind if I give you a few pointers?"

'I'd appreciate the-"

Before he can finish, she's the one hugging him.

She waits for him to return the embrace, and then gives it a few seconds more before she waves a hand through the air, swapping the position of just a few pieces, just enough. . .

She'll probably feel bad for this later, she doesn't feel great about it now, but she needs this one small victory. She needs a distraction.

So, she untangles her arms and steps back, raising an eyebrow, "I believe that might help you in the future. Now, I think my tea should be just about finished."

"Y-yes. Er, thank you."

Grabbing her tea, she follows Vision back to the chess board.

"Where were we? I think it was your move and—"

"Oh right," Wanda cuts in, pushing her queen across the board with a smirk, "Check."

Vision's mouth hangs slightly agape.

"I'm sorry, could you say that again?"


End file.
